Page 72 of Caught Stealing

He remains quiet until my attention shifts back to him. “I’m in this class.”

“I meant next to me.” I raise my brow in ac’mon nowlook. “You know, when I told you I had nothing more to say to you?”

His shrug doesn’t quite match his demeanor, nor the way he says, “I saw a friendly face and figured I’d sit with you.”

“We aren’t friends,” I whisper. “And we never will be.”

Not when I think about the way your ass clenches around my dick when you come every time I look at you. Or the way my stomach does more flips than a gymnast when you’re around.

He huffs out some combination of a scoff and a laugh. “Glad to see you’re, once again, making decisions for the both of us.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it.” His eyes flick to the front of the room. “But for the record, I didn’t just sit here to talk to you. If you say we’re done talking about whatdidn’thappen, then we’re done.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he repeats, a little smirk on his face. “Now, you should probably shut up and pay attention.”

Holden’s version ofpaying attentionlasts a whole twenty minutes into the lecture before either boredom or disinterest takes over. By a third of the way through, he’s fully engrossed in his phone; probably scrolling through social media or texting God knows who.

Maybe even swiping on Toppr—the currently trending gay hook-up app—yet I try to not let that thought linger too long.

Whatever. It’s his eligibility on the line come the fall term, not mine.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, momentarily pulling me from my silent musings to check the screen.

Unknown: You look pissy.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I veer my focus over to Holden, who is still playing on his phone. There’s a small likelihood it could be someone else in this class, but…

Unknown: C’mon, don’t ignore me. I literally saw you read my text.

Unknown: If you’re going to verbally ignore me when I’m sitting right beside you, the least you could do is acknowledge my existence via text.

I try not to fixate on the irony, seeing as I know exactly what it’s like to have the roles reversed. Plus, who knows, maybe it would serve him right if I continued ignoring him—even though I now know he has zero recollection of our night at Kappa Sig.

But I’m smart enough to realize how tenacious Holden is, and if I don’t give in and text back now, he’ll only keep blowing up my phone. A fact that’s confirmed when I see the three bubbles pop up while I’m still staring at the screen.

H: Typing back isn’t hard. Just tap your thumbs on the little glass screen where the letters are.

P: You’re so annoying.

H: You did it. Gold star for Nix.

I roll my eyes, not at all amused with his…flirting? Teasing? Torment? I can’t even tell the difference anymore, and it’s making the mess inside my head all the more confusing.

P: How did you get my number?

H: You’re not the only one good at stealing your roomie’s phone.

My teeth sink into my cheek as I sigh, knowing exactly who he’s talking about.

Theo.

P: I suppose I should be flattered you’d go to all that trouble, but I’m trying to pay attention if you hadn’t noticed. Unlike you. Now stop texting me.

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